Girls Gone Wild

Mr. Husband was gone ALL day today for some sort of concert thing or whatever (I seriously don't actually know exactly where he was or what he was doing and it's probably better that way), leaving us girls to our own devices. Miss Alexis and I discussed what we should do with our alone time, and eventually ended up debating whether we should spend it doing some very serious potty training or shopping. Then I came to my senses and we trekked out to the car.

Off Alexis and I went, spending most of our day running from the mall to a store to another mall then off for dinner together before heading out to some more stores. We've done the all-day shopping spree thing before, so I know Alexis is 100% game for whatever I throw her way, just as long as there is snacking and shoes involved.

As we were nearing the end of our mall escapades, my dear sweet daughter dropped a deuce to end all deuces. I'm pretty sure every mom in the play area a story below us paused to check their own kid as we rushed past on our way to take care of it because that sucker had an olfactory radius several miles wide. I long ago stopped carrying a diaper bag and instead just keep the necessary supplies in the back seat of the car. So through the lot we rushed and I opened up the car door and discovered . . . nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Apparently, he who most recently changed a diaper using the car supply neglected to mention that he thought maybe he used the last diaper. He who shall remain unnamed is just lucky that he actually changes diapers or I might be preparing a stern lecture or two.

I couldn't stomach the thought of containing that odor in the car as we drove over to pick up a package of diapers, so we ended up having the opportunity to accomplish both tasks we had earlier contemplated. Now that I've had the joy of having a not-quite-yet potty-trained kid going commando in the car, I've decided that it is the only thing that come close to equaling the stress of playing chicken with the gas gauge. Keep in mind, this is the same car which I am constantly scolded about because I *brace yourself* sometimes leave a receipt or two and a few straw wrappers in it. I'm pretty sure Mr. Husband would have blown all remaining gaskets if he had been there as we potty-trained while driving for fifteen minutes. Fortunately, we survived our commando mission.

Later we decided, OK, I decided, that ice cream needed to be part of the plan. Ice cream is at the top of my food pyramid, obviously, because watching Alexis eat it is a form of torture. She manages to suck out most of my joy as she eats it sooooo slowly that it's usually completely melted by the time she gets to the third bite. It would be so much easier if she would just let me help, but it's always, "No, I do it." So I have to maintain a safe distance as I pray she doesn't end up looking like she went swimming in a pool full of bright blue ice cream.

Today was a little different, however. Alexis ate it EVEN slower than usual. It seems that she was horribly distracted by a four or five-year old little girl who was standing outside, right by the big glass wall. Remember the old Madonna video where she's doing a peep show behind glass? That is EXACTLY what the little girl was doing. Seriously. I don't think the glass at Baskin Robbins has ever seen that kind of action. Alexis couldn't stop staring and eventually I just scooped her up thinking that it wasn't worth waiting to see if she was considering joining in on the dancing or what.

As we walked out the door, I realized that the little girl had been singing at the top of her lungs as she was grinding on the glass (I wish those weren't the right words to describe it, but they are). As we walked past, she wailed, "Do you like my booooody? Do you think I'm seeeexy"

Yeah, so that was special.

(I will never again complain about listening to Signing Time endlessly in the car. At least my kid only sings things like, "When I say jump, I wanna see you jump."

I'm thinking Alexis and I need to schedule another Girls Day Out soon. Preferably of the stripper-free variety.

All the Kids in the Pool, Please

Dear Alexis,

I was all set to write you a heartfelt letter about how much I have enjoyed that hour after I pick you up from school all this week. The change in the weather has paved the way for sidewalk chalk, peek-a-boo behind the flowers, and endless rides down the slide. It's been amazing spending that time with you. But, then you went and did it again. Or rather, you didn't do it again. So, instead, let's talk about the kids, mmkay?

The kids.

The kids want to swim in the pool.

What kid doesn't want to swim in the pool? Really. The fact that you hang a billboard all over your face when you're about to drop the kids off in that Dora diaper should make it real easy for us to scoop you up and plop you down over the pool, but you refuse.

You vehemently refuse.

Alexis honey, you are denying the kids their right -as kids- to go for a swim. Today's kids could be halfway to the ocean by now, practicing the butterfly and backstroke while bonding with other kids their age. Instead, they are stuck down in the dark, stinky garage with the dogs' kids. Do you know how cruel that is? No one should have to be around the dogs' kids. That's like locking you in a room with the stinky snot-nosed toddler who likes to bite and hit everybody. While your kids are far from sweet bundles of joy dropped from the heavens, they do not deserve to spend their days surrounded by those smelly brats.

While I get a bit of a kick out of you dropping the kids off on Dora's face, it's time to make some dreams come true. All the kids. In the pool. Now.

Thank you.

Love always,
Mommy (who is totally ready to never change another stinky diaper again)

She's Going to Interrupt My Boyfriend Wentworth Three Times

I'm almost afraid to admit it in writing, but as of late, the Toddler has been nothing short of a pleasure to be around. She's less than two weeks away from her second birthday, but yet she's been remarkably fun, entertaining, and totally lacking in hissy fits. I mean, sure, she's championing an experiment to try to find the exact breaking point for a parent's sleep deprivation, but other than that? She's been SO MUCH FUN!

Except (Ha! You knew that was coming, now didn't you?), this whole potty training thing is certainly going to be the final nail in my coffin. Many, many people before me have written nightmare stories of potty training, so I can't tell you anything new. It's just that Alexis has managed to find that magical breaking point for me and she's pushing! it! endlessly!

If I had a say in these things, the potty training would commence in approximately three months. It would consist of me taking a week off work and locking myself and the Toddler in the house 24 hours a day for those 7 days. Our whole lives would revolve around potty training. We would eat, drink, and sleep potty training. At the end she would either be trained, or I would be investigating Pampers in my size. But, of course, I do not have a say in these things, so Alexis has decided that she shall ask to go potty every 17.4 minutes and she shall do it now.

So fine, she asks to go potty and either Daddy or I takes her. She's all about the stripping portion of the festivities, she sits on the potty just fine, she tears off some toilet paper and throws it in the water, she flushes, she pulls up her own pants, and she washes her hands. What's missing? The actual act of pottying. Who needs that part when you can have all that ritualistic fun? Honest to goodness, this weekend she visited the restroom in three different stores at the mall, two restaurants, two different Targets, and made several trips to our two bathrooms at home. There was not one drop or nugget of actual pottying involved. This has been going on for nearly two weeks and NOTHING. She just likes all the fun things you do while you're in the bathroom.

Guess which part of potty training I was dreading the most. Go ahead, guess. Oh yeah, definitely the part where they need to go every 17.4 minutes. You see, I myself need to go every 26.2 minutes. I knew very well that her scheduled meetings with the throne would very rarely meet up with mine. So I fully expected to spend about 20 hours a day in the bathroom. But I had the obviously unrealistic expectation that there would be actual pottying involved. What in the world gave me the idea that people should go potty while sitting on the toilet? Crazy talk, I know.



Go ahead, tell me how much worse it's going to get. Cecily just told a great story about a urinal and Looky, Daddy! recently warned of the dangers of telling a potty-trained tot to go ahead and make use of the river. I want to hear what the rest of you have to say. And if you're kid just woke up one day and decided to be fully trained? Just shoosh. I can't be your friend for at least two weeks.